


re·group

by whataboutateakettle



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 03:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14685473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataboutateakettle/pseuds/whataboutateakettle
Summary: (verb): to reorganize (as after a setback) // set from episode 4x07 through episode 4x08





	re·group

**Author's Note:**

> This was started right after 4x07 aired and edited throughout the rest of the season and then shelved for a variety of reasons, but I wanted to dust it off and finish it properly while we are still enjoying our post season 4 glow.
> 
> Weird chronology just because it felt right.

He’s rearranged the shower products in height order, even though David told him that it’s bad because it creates empty space. It makes the customers uncomfortable, he’d said, although Patrick still thinks it just makes David uncomfortable. Besides, they haven’t had any customers yet that morning.

Here’s the thing though, he can’t leave the shower products alone, because there’s nothing else to do. And he can’t do _nothing_ because he’s nervous and when he gets nervous he gets fidgety. He gets fidgety and he can’t sleep, which is why he got here two hours before the store even opened and he’s already swept the floors and spritzed the produce.

So it’s either rearranging the merchandise or he’s going to have to rewire those lamps. Again.

* * *

They haven’t spoken in fourteen hours, not since Patrick handed him a plate of food, his own stomach in knots. David took the plate, one arm still hugging his chest.

“Can we talk tomorrow?” He’d asked, and he had seen in David’s eyes that they were both remembering the same warm feeling. Except this time David didn’t smile back, he pressed his lips together, looked down at the floor.

“Uh, maybe it’s better if I just – I’ll call you,” he’d said, and turned away from the door before Patrick could say anything else.

* * *

The first time Rachel kissed him, he felt relieved. They were three weeks into their senior year and he’d never kissed anyone before, much to his own dismay. Rachel was... Rachel. He’d known her for years, they were both in the school choir, their moms were friends. His friends thought she was hot, but he’d honestly never given it much thought. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and they were sitting on the floor in Rachel’s parents’ living room, trying to study. He’s flipping through flash cards and the next thing he knows she’s pressing her lips to his.

Kissing Rachel felt good. It was soft and simple and had the same warm satisfaction as crossing something off a to-do list. Except the next day Rachel tells him she likes him and he thinks about how his mom likes her, how everyone likes her, and yeah, he probably likes her too. Rachel is nice and friendly and determined. They have a million things in common and the same sense of humour. And when they both get accepted to the same state college Rachel is thrilled and he doesn’t mention the ball of doubt growing in his chest.

* * *

The first time David kisses him, he feels relieved. But it feels so different to the relief he felt 15 years ago that he thinks it must be something different altogether. And it is. Because it feels like he just opened the door in a room he’s been suffocating in for years. He feels like he can breathe again. He feels like he wants to do it a million times over.

The next day, after a false start or three, he kisses David again and every knot that has been twisting in his gut loosens. They work together; they have a business together, here in the smallest of small towns. He’s just come out of a long, hard, complicated relationship. David is stubborn, and dramatic, and impatient, and sometimes Patrick feels like he’s struggling to keep up. And then David presses his lips to Patrick’s neck while he’s trying to talk about their accounts, and he wraps his arms around Patrick’s waist while he’s doing the dishes in Ray’s kitchen and he’ll mention the future like it’s a done deal before he gets flustered and corrects himself and Patrick can’t help but think this was the safest bet he’s ever made.

* * *

 He’s in the backroom when he hears the bell on the door, and he’s pretty sure he’s never moved so fast in his entire life.

It’s not David. It’s Stevie, standing there, hands clasped awkwardly in front of her.

“David’s not coming, is he?” he asks, though he already knows the answer.

She looks apologetic as she shakes her head. He looks down at his shoes, stuffs his hands in his pockets, tries to tell himself it’s not a big deal.

“I think he needs more time,” He hears Stevie say.

He takes a breath before looking up at her and nodding. “Yeah, whatever he needs. Do you – should I  call him?”

“No, No-” Stevie holds both hands up, like it’s that bad of an idea. “Maybe just ... don’t give up on him right now. This is all new to him, you know. I don’t think he’s used to this feeling.”

This feeling being what exactly? Heartbreak? Betrayal? Patrick swallows down the lump in his throat and feels the urge to run to the motel and try and explain everything all over again. He's stepping out from behind the counter before he stops himself and instead just nods. “I’m not going anywhere. Can you tell him that? Please?”

Stevie hesitates, like she already regrets getting involved. He wouldn’t be surprised.  

“Rachel’s gone home,” he adds, in case it helps.

“Yeah, I know. I checked her out this morning.” Stevie smiles, give him a look that sits somewhere between sympathetic and telling him he’s an idiot.

Of course, yeah, that makes sense. “She’s not coming back. I told her everything and we’re done. For good. Not that – I mean, we were _completely_ broken up when I moved here, before I met David -”

Stevie shakes her head before he’s even done. “Yeah, that’s really none of my business.”

“You’re his best friend,” he says, and Stevie's eyes widen like this is news to her. “I don’t want you to think I did any of this on purpose. I would never –”

“I know. I think David knows too, I just think he needs to... process.”

 “That’s what he said last night,” he nods, presses his lips together.

“I gonna get back, but, um, hang in there.” Stevie says. She steps backwards towards the door but pauses, looks up at him before quickly walking towards him and giving him a fast hug.

* * *

What he said to David last night was completely true too, but it’s not the whole truth. David makes him feel right. But on a related but separate note, David _is_ what feels right. Patrick hasn’t told him yet how much he loves him, how much he’s _in love_ with him. How these four months have felt so much more fulfilling, more promising than a decade with Rachel. How he’s been giving more than a passing glance at Ray's Real Estate flyers, not only to get out of his place but because he can see himself building a real home with David.

But David’s his own person, with his own history and his own insecurities he likes to mask as quirks. Patrick starts small with cards and cookies and a balloon or two; he knows David's not ready yet. And he was fine with that; he _is_ fine with that. He was happy biting back the words with a smirk, swallowing them in a kiss. He always hoped, always expected that one day he’d get to say them.

And now he’s just scared  that day is gone.

* * *

“Oh wow.” Rachel had told him last night, when they sat in her car parked in the Rosebud Motel parking lot and he tells her everything. In some ways she knows him better than he knows himself. In others, she’s a stranger. “Everything makes so much more sense now.”

“It does?” He asks.

She gives him a look, a look that reminds him they’ve known each other for nearly twenty years. He wants to tell he’s sorry, because he is. He should have told her years ago when he wasn’t sure about all of this, or months ago when he was, or days ago when she arrived and texted him, hoping to slip back into a life he couldn’t pretend to live anymore.

* * *

His phone rings less than a minute after he’s turned the closed sign around on the store door. David’s name and photo flash up on his screen and Patrick almost throws up from a combination of nerves and eagerness and fear.

He taps accept, and brings the phone to his ear. “Hi.”

“Hey,” David’s says and his voice sounds ... it sounds perfect. It’d been almost 24 hours since they had last spoken, and that was definitely the longest they’d gone without talking since David’s birthday and he’d _missed_ him.

David inhales slowly before continuing. “Sorry I didn’t come in today. I know things are... not great but we’re still business partners.”

He realises David doesn’t know that Stevie came over and he appreciates the gesture even more now. “It’s really fine. It was good to have something to do,” He tries to say it with a smile, hopes it transfers into his voice.

“I really think I need another day. Just to, you know, sit with what happened last night,” David says slowly. “But uh, maybe we can ... reconvene after that and see how things go.”

Reconvene. Like business partners.

“Oh, sure, okay,” he replies. He’s stopped even trying to smile.

* * *

 **David [10:42pm]** Stevie is dragging me to a spa tomorrow. Against my will. Are you okay to cover the store for two more days?

 **Patrick [10:43pm]** A spa???

 **Patrick [10:43pm]** Of course I’ll cover the store.

 **Patrick [10:43pm]** Have fun!

 **David [10:50pm]** Unlikely.

* * *

 **David [1:36pm]** So apparently Stevie told the spa we were on our honeymoon in order to get free booze and it has backfired spectacularly.

 **David [1:36pm]** [image attached]

 **Patrick [1:37pm]** Wow. That’s a lot of rose petals.

* * *

 **David [9:12pm]** I can’t believe you did that.

 **Patrick [9:15pm]** Was it good? They said that was their best wine.

 **David [9:20pm]** It was very drinkable. As in we definitely drank it.

 **Patrick [9:21pm]** You’re welcome.

* * *

It’s nearly midnight when his phone rings. This time he doesn’t even have time to feel nervous before he answers, not even bothering to hide the mild panic in his voice. “David? Is everything okay?”

“No, yeah, I’m fine. God, you were sleeping this is so stupid,” David sounds flustered over the phone and Patrick wishes he could just hold his hand.

“No, no, I’m awake. Where’s, uh, where’s Stevie?”

“She’s sleeping off the lover’s curry.”

“The what - you know, it doesn’t matter. What’s up?”

David hums for a moment, like he’s thinking. “I was just interested how the store did today?”

It feels like an olive branch of sorts, and he’ll gladly take it.

“Uh... it was good. People really love the new juices we have in stock,” he says, decides not to mention the shower products. He’s already arranged them back the way they were and David never has to know.

“Good. That’s uh, that’s great,” David pauses for a moment, “Thanks for the wine. Again.”

He smiles, genuinely this time.  “I was worried it was too much.”

David huffs, “This whole place is too much. But no, that was perfect.”

There’s a moment, a tiny blissful moment, where Patrick can feel David’s smile on the other end of the line, and he smiles back and there’s this tiny current of electricity running through them and it feels like hope.

After David hangs up, Patrick searches up the nearest florist that does deliveries, and orders a few more olive branches. 

 

 

 

 


End file.
